"Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad--about the money--when you've
been saving it, too, all this time."
"When--eh?"
"Saving it--buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you
like beans?--or do you like turkey better, only on account of the
sixty cents?"
"Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?"
Pollyanna smiled radiantly.
"About your money, you know--denying yourself, and saving it for
the heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton,
that's one of the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy
told me."
The man's jaw dropped.
"Nancy told you I was saving money for the--Well, may I inquire
who Nancy is?"
"Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly."
"Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?"
"She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her."
The man made a sudden movement.
"Miss--Polly--Harrington!" he breathed. "You live with--HER!"
"Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up--on account of my
mother, you know," faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. "She was
her sister.
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